


Three Small Acts of Kindness

by Lunargypsy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, BotFA, Death, Emtional distress, F/M, Feels, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunargypsy/pseuds/Lunargypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins, Esquire has always been a generally kind person. That's why he went to a mountain. That's why he vouched for a king. That's why he did three simple acts of kindness that he didn't even have to think about It was so automatic it was normal. But every one of these simple acts of kindness was a nail in his coffin. </p><p>Told from Thorin's perspective, a painful twist on the Battle of Five Armies shows what might have been if Bilbo had had an Arrow and a little more time. Warning. Herein is Violence, Death and a lot of pain. Be warned</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KimidollSan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimidollSan/gifts).



> This entire thing was inspired by  
> http://french-unicorn.tumblr.com/post/123892960105/someone-write-angsty-fanfictions-please  
> So blame her, not me! Isn't her art good! Don't kill em! D:

“We’ll live to fight another day.” With a single look Bilbo was rushing after Thorin away from Raven hill, heading into battle once more and Thorin, not for the last time, wondered at this brave little hobbit who he had hurt so much, yet followed him still. But the sound of feet and loud breathing had them turning on their heels. Thorin’s eyes grew wide as Azog emerged from the catacombs, Fili raised up, a dark smile on his face. Thorin’s chest constricted painfully. He rushed forward as Azog spat a sentence at them in his harsh tongue. He raised his blade to slash at ili, panic on his face, eyes fixed on his uncle.  
Then, Azog let out a shout of pain and dropped Fili, his hand going to his eye were feathers had sprouted as if by magic. Fili dropped like a stone down to his brother who caught him and shrank back against the side of the building, embracing and shaking in fear. Thorin turned and there stood bilbo, hands shaking, Kili’s bow in hand, eyes wide at what he had just done. He looked at Thorin, shock on his face, pale under the blood and grime.  
“I-I just saw them and I-I didn’t-he was going to die-and I-”  
“Once more we are indebted to you master Baggins” Thorin said, a wide smile on his face, until a loud roar echoed across the hill. Azog howled in anger and shouted at them and Thorin instinctively grabbed Bilbo’s sleeved and pulled him closer. Bilbo moved quickly towards him, dropping the bow and drawing his little sword. Fili and Kili were sneaked across the river under the fog and would soon be with them, but they didn’t have time. Azog pointed at Thorin and his men made their way down the tower, moving like cockroaches and leaping down in anger.  
“Du bekar!” Thorin roared and the three of them charged into battle, Dwalin swinging his hammer, Thorin with his sword and Bilbo dancing through the enemy, sword raised and moving swiftly. Then they were outnumbered but doing their best and suddenly Fili and Kili charged in, swords moving as one, piercing through the mob as movement carried them towards their uncle who wasted precious moments flashing a smile at Fili and grasping his shoulder before beheading an orc. Suddenly Ki;li let out a cry of joy and two elves burst into their midsts, blades spiraling and hair whipping about their heads.  
“We’re outnumbered!” Bilbo shouted to Thorin after a time, their backs pressed against one another to catch a moment to speak.  
“We shall fight until we can no more.” Thorin shouted back and slashed at an orc with a snubbed nose.  
“Thorin, we’re not going to make it...are we.” Bilbo said turning to face him. Thorin looked at him, this small little hobbit with eyes wide and scared and clenched his jaw. He set a hand on his shoulder and tried to find words. Any words. Then Bilbo shoved him so hard Thorin fell flat. For a moment he thought it was anger until he saw a blade connect with Bilbo’s chest. The Hobbit gasped and his eye widened then slid shut and he slumped forward onto Azog. The pale orc snarled in joy. Then Bilbo’s eyes snapped open and with a vicious smile he stabbed his little sword into the orc’s chest and dragged him down next to him. Azog did not stir and BIlbo was trapped beneath him, but with a new surge of orcs, Thorin had no time to pry the beats off his burglar.  
He hacked and slashed, blood pumping in s ears, his only thought to kill enough that he could check on bilbo. There was time, right? he was wearing the mithril. He’d be fine. Then a shout of horror as Bolg hefted up Kili and dug a knife into his gut. Tauriel screamed and Thorin’s heart stopped, but kili slashed at Bolg’s head and Dwalin smashed his legs, allowing that blonde elf to decapitate him in a moment. With their leaders dead the orcs began to scramble for control or direction. Many took off running, even more fled to the battle field below where the dwarves and the men and elves were finishing their kin. Thorin jogged to Kili who was sitting, panting for breath and holding his stomach  
“Kili, hold on, we’ll fetch you a healer.” Thorin assured him.  
“Uncle, I’m fine, just a bit winded.” Kili sad in between heavy breaths and removed his hands, showing a tear in his coat. But underneath shimmer silver. Thorin ripped at his coat, revealing a shirt of Mithril beneath with a very familiar collar. “See? It just winded me-UNCLE!” Thorin turned and ran to Azog’s cold body. He pushed and hefted the thing away. There was Bilbo, very small and very still, lips tinged blue, blood staining his chest like a flower. His eyes were open slightly and his face looked troubled and impatient as if he was waiting for someone.  
“No, no, Bilbo don’t you dare.” Thorin choked out and knelt, lifting Bilbo’s still form carefully into his arms. Bilbo didn't stir and his head lolled back, body cold, arms limp. “Bilbo wake up.” Thorin whispered giving the little thing a small shake. Bilbo wobbled but didn’t awaken and the blood on his coat had long since stopped flowing. Thorin clenched his jaw and pulled Bilbo against his chest, burying his face in the curls, shaking as tears rolled down his face, holding back sobs and howls of misery. The poor, stupid, precious hobbit had gotten himself killed protecting Thorin. He pushed him out of harm's way and gotten killed for it.  
“Uncle...uncle please tell me he’s alright.” It was Kili’s voice, shaking and guilty.  
“He saved me...He saved me...” Fili was whispering over and over from where he sat, not three feet from Thorin.  
“He was a friend of yours?” the elf man asked and Thorin cradled his hobbit closer. “Ah...” No one spoke after that until a rush of quick footsteps harked the presence of a new arrival.  
“What has happened here?” it was Thranduil, curse his name, curse him!  
“You! Get out! GET OUT OF HERE!” Dwalin roared and there was the sound of a scuffle and people shouting for people to calm down. People were arguing and shooting accusations and renouncing family members and declaring loyalties, but none of it mattered to Thorin. Poor lost king of nothing holding his dead Burglar. When silence fell again, it occurred dimly to Thorin, that they were waiting for him. ‘Let them wait. Give me time to grieve. Time to feel this pain. I have lost him. Something so precious and I lost him. And I hurt him. I ignored him and what he meant to me.’ he thought. Then his conscious, which had always sounded like his grandfather.  
‘You are a king. Stand up and act like it!’  
‘If this is what it means to be king, to hide my pains and hide from my own truths then I do not care for it. Let Fili be king. Let him rule in my stead. I will sit here and mourn the loss of my heart and soul.’  
“Uncle...” a gentle touch on his shoulder. He shrugged off the hand and kept hold of his Burglar, his silly little Bilbo. Poor, dead Bilbo Baggins. “Uncle, can you-”  
“Leave me be.” He sobbed, not having the strength to snarl or be angry at the interruption. “Let me be...” he shook as the sobs began to bubble up and knew soon quiet tears would not be enough to release this pain. Soon there would be howls of grief like when Frerin died, and mad raving when the shock of losing his Mother to the dragon sunk in and the unending denial like over his father or the bursts of violence that won him the battle of azanulbizar after his grandfather’s head rolled to his feet. Soon all of it would come surging forward for this little hobbit, his little hero.  
“Thorin.” That was Dwalin now. His voice of reason, his commander. ‘Give me comfort.’ Thorin pleaded in his mind. ‘Tell me Oin can revive him, that hobbits have some mad trick to avoid death.’ Dwalin said none of these things. “We have to go check on the others. Thorin the battle-”  
“Damn the battle and damn the head count and damn it all!” Thorin howled, somewhere between anguish and rage. “He’s dead Dwalin! Do you not see this? Dead...” and then come the shaking and choked breaths. The screaming would start soon. Silence echoed on Ravenhill.  
“It feels like your head will burst,” said a soft voice Thorin didn’t care to try and recognize it. “Like your heart will burst and break apart in your chest. You want to stay where you are and die a thousand deaths because nothing is as painful as this. It aches like you have lost a limb. Or four. Like you would rather cease here in this moment forever and always then persist a moment longer without him.”  
“Yes.” Thorin said in a shaking voice. A hand rested gently on his shoulder, too large to be a dwarf and Thorin looked up, face pale eyes red. Thranduil kneeled beside him face somber and morose. “How...how do you know?” Thranduil’s smile is sad, sympathetic, understanding and he looks profoundly...human.  
“As I sat on the battlefield, holding my dead bride, I felt all these things. It means that your love was true.” The words sounded jumbled in Thorin’s head. Chaotic and mad. Love? Bilbo? Don’t be ridiculous you silly elf. I’m a male. males like females. Not other males. That’s ridiculous...right? Yes, certainly. But still, all those times...

It was after the trolls, at Rivendell. The others were bathing in a huge fountain and Thorin was tugging on his breeches, smirking at their mischief. He was on his way back to the house, ready to absolutely wreck the plumbing when he heard light musical laughter. He froze and looked into the garden he was passing. Bilbo stood in the center arms lifted slightly as butterflies and birds circled around him then flew off to the skies. He watched them go, a dazzling smile on his face and a look of awe about him. Thorin felt his own smile creep up as he watched for a moment and then returned to his business. 

Then again after the orcs, when Bilbo promised to help no matter what, to the best of his abilities and such a surge of warmth had risen up in Thorin a smile had once more emerged and the Hobbit had smiled back, sunset making his hair look gold and face warm and delighted and Thorin had looked away, afraid he might do something ridiculous if he kept looking at this cute little thing that he had brought on an adventure. Then he had. Bilbo had saved him and he had let it out in a burst of emotion, hugging his hobbit and squeezing him gently on top of the Carrock. and he felt a small pat on his side as Bilbo’s hand connected with him. 

And then the burst of hope in his chest when Bilbo appeared with the keys to the jail cell. Holding them out with a clever sparkle in his eye and a plan to get them out. He opened the door and there was a small moment of eye contact between the two, when Thorin could have hugged him again and Bibo looked like he wouldn’t stop him, but there were twelve more dwarves to unchain and an escape to make. And even when the others complained and growled at Bilbo about his barrell out of bond plan, Thorin had his eyes on Bilbo First. He was watching him, just staring when Bilbo turned to him with a silent plea and Thorin’s voice snapped through the air like a whip sending his men into elven wine barrels. 

And in Lake town when doubt was hefted upon him and someone was asked to vouch for him, his own men could not, bring his people and Bilbo stepped up, saying he trusted him. ‘If Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it.’ and Thorin had felt such a great wave of affection towards this little hobbit and his eyes softened and Ilbo did that ridiculous thing he does, where he presses his lips together, trying to hold back a smile and then letting it out anyway, all for Thorin, eyes locked with his and he let out a small smile, warm and thankful. 

And not too many hours ago when Bilbo showed him a single acorn he had gathered up in Beorn’s garden. ‘I’ll plant it and one day, I’ll remember.’ Thorin stared at this little hobbit, full of hope and excitement, thinking he would live on and on, planting oak trees and seeing them tower up to the sky, lifting into the air, bearing memories and dwarves and elves and dragons and men. Gold and mountains and such wonders. And Thorin had felt it, really felt it, piercing through his haze of madness and letting him really feel for the first time in days, a smile on his face and eyes only for Bilbo. So had it been love all along? 

Thorin sat with Bilbo in his arms, curls caked with blood, body limp in his arms. Love...maybe it wasn’t so far fetched as all that. He wouldn’t discount it certainly. He blinked and realized he had been gaping at Thranduil, who was waiting patiently for his response. Thorin blinked and realized it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if he loved Bilbo or was only his friend. If he would have married him that day or simply sent him away with gold and his friendship. Because Bilbo, poor, sweet, lovely Bilbo, was dead in his arms.


	2. SURPRISE MUTHERFUCKER. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BOOM second chapter, Had you goin' di'in' I? Yup there's a happily ever after

He swallowed and blinked and stared at Thranduil.   
“Then make it stop.” Thorin pleaded. Thranduil looked at Bilbo and then at Thorin’s tear stained face.   
“He must never touch me again.” Thranduil warned. “Never shake my hand, never lay a finger on me. It would be best if we never even spoke again. Can you promise me this, Oakenshield?” Thorin nodded in confusion and Thranduil bowed his head. “Then leave. All of you leave the hill. Bring me an orc, alive, and be gone.” Thorin was confused as Legolas pried Bilbo from his arms and Dwalin led him away. He was dazed, confused, not sure why he was trusting Thranduil with his dead Bilbo. Tauriel found an orc, and marched it up Raven hill then while Thorin was seated beside Dain and Bard in a mighty hall in Dale. The two were discussing things over him, as if he was listening.   
Then Tauriel opened the doors to the great hall where they all waited and Thorin stood up, eyes searching her face. The elf looked solemn but stepped back and there, sure as Sunday, stood Bilbo Baggins, Esquire. Still covered in blood, dazed and blinking around him. His wound was healed and he looked visibly pale, but there he was. Curls clumped and eyes wide he looked around and took a nervous step forward.   
“Thorin?” He said softly and Thorin blinked. Like a snapping of a twig, Thorin moved. He crossed the hall in four long strides and grabbed Bilbo up in his arms, burying his face in his curls again and BIlbo gripped him tightly, shaking in shock. “I-I’m alive!” He said in shock.   
“He’s alive!” Shouted Kili in delight and Suddenly there were nephews crowding in on the hug and then one less and then ten more all grabbing onto the burglar, thanking and blessing and crashing skulls and laughing and cheers for Bilbo Baggins the Bravest Burglar in Middle Earth. Thorin stepped back and watched as Bofur hugged the little man ightly shouting about how he had known, known all along about his worth. and Bilbo with that sheepish half smile. Even stained with dirt and blood he was amazing, dazzling wonderful.   
Bilbo looked at Thorin and Thorin smiled nodding slightly and Bilbo’s smile spread wide, full of warmth and excitement and joy. But Smiles and words would have to wait because the dead must be counted, and arrangements made to move the injured and space made in Erebor and Provisions moved into halls and envoys sent out to the Blue Mountains. But every time Thorin turned, Bilbo was there just behind him standing beside Balin and Fili and Kili with an encouraging smile and a nod and Thorin fulfilled his role as king.  
When Thorin collapsed in a tent, tired and weary, Balin walked in with a firm look.   
“Can we wait on anything else until tomorrow? I’m really not in the mood-”  
“Dwalin told me what happened on Raven Hill.” Balin said bluntly. Thorin stood up.   
“Not a word to Bilbo.” he growled threateningly.   
“Peace lad. I just want it to be clear that you need to make it clear to him. He deserves at least that.” Balin said and glanced at Thorin. “I‘ll fetch Oin.”  
“It’s just a scratch!” Thorin shouted angrily. He flopped back onto his cot, arm draped over his eyes. There was a rustle of fabric as the tent flap opened. “Just get out I don’t want to see you.” Snarled Thorin savagely.   
“Oh...sorry.” Bilbo voice stuttered out. Thorin was up at once grabbing Bilbo’s arm.   
“No.” he found himself saying hurriedly. “I thought you were Oin...come to fuss over the state of me. I wouldn’t mind your company.” Thorin said and the hurt look on Bilbo’s face evaporated.   
“Ah...yes of course. OIn’s already been to see me. Head got a bit bumped up.” he said tapping the clean white bandage over his curls. He sat on the ground by Thorin’s cot and Thorin lowered himself down next to him not without difficulty and Bilbo smiled warmly. “Ah yes clearly Oin doesn’t need to see you.” he said and Thorin gave him a sideways look with half a smile.   
“Aches and pains do not require a surgeon. And you. How do you feel.” Bilbo’s smile faded slightly and he turned thoughtful.   
“Considering I was almost dead, I feel splendid. It’s odd. I remember you. You were holding me and then. I woke up and Tauriel was with me. Thranduil was already walking off and-where is he, I wanted to thank him Tauriel says he used old magic to save me.” Bilbo looked around as if expecting Thranduil to come out from beneath Thorin’s bed.   
“He said it was best to keep away or else the magic would come undone.” Thorin said and Bilbo frowned.   
“Well you’ll just have to thank him for me.” he smiled and Thorin smiled back.   
“Alrigh’.”  
“OIN!”  
~~~~~  
Thranduil walked through the Greenwood silently a season later, head bent in thought Thorin had invited him to the wedding, out of etiquette more than intent, and Thranduil had turned him down rather politely, he thought. He did not bother to send a wedding gift, after all he had already gifted them with a groom, which was half the wedding anyway. According to regular letters from that ridiculous dwarf Kili, Bilbo had taken the news that Thorin loved him very well. Lots of blushing and puffing and a large amount of ‘but’s and ‘if’s and ‘oh really’s. Thranduil could almost picture them. Dressed in silver and white and the palest of greens IT would be a lovely wedding, he was sure. Thranduil looked at his hand idly, rubbing his fingers together and smiled slightly. Then again. Wedding cakes were a tad overrated. Maybe he could send a pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Kili writes letters to Tharnduil, who he sees as the only reason his uncle is as happy as he is and No, thranduil never writes him back


End file.
